Serayah Cressors.
Roar closes the storage room door. I followed him here without question, knowing full well what we’re about to do. I’m not oblivious.
He’s looking at me now—no, more than looking. From the sharp angles of his jaw, he is studying every crevice of my face and I am not innocent in this. I am doing the same. He is beautiful, down to the end. Eyes of blue, in this dull storage, they shine the brightest. For a man so stern, his lips are so full and that jaw of his sharpens as he comes closer to cup my face.
It’s so large, so calloused, yet so careful and it nearly covers my mouth. His touch demands attention, gently tilting my face so I have no choice but to meet his eyes.
I rest my hands on his chest and there, I feel the powerful beat of his heart under my palm. He is har
